White christmas means...
global warming stopped!!! Did you hear!? No more worrying about rising sea levels, spreading deserts, famine, war and pestilance. A white christmas, indeed! Snow will fall again, but not too much and not in tbe wrong places. All as it should be. Ideal climate for getting fat and worry about weight loss.
Oh. If only tbe scientists just admit that they made some terrible miscalculation. It wont be the first time. Really, its math. Totally understandable.
Well have the world that everyone hopes for. And not what we have.
see, i hate snow! I cant bare the pain in my knuckles as the ice cuts into me. I cant stand tbe sight of the snow, after a few days, when it filthy gray and brown. Mud puddles lurking , hidden, just for you to step into.
Realism sucks. So does escapism. All that plastic decore, that massive indiscrimenant waste. The collateral damage of celebrating desperately.
Here in china, people dont know anything really about the holiday and what it stands for, but they know what it really STANDS for. Shops decorate as early as september. And you hear the songs stuck on a loop in walmart. I just feel bad for the store keepers, that need to hear "jingle bells"". Non stop.
A white, work free, and WORRY free christmass. Is what i wish and hope for.
Ok, fine with a bit of snow for the kids. Hope they dont get a cold..
you can't force a white Christmas
in the same way I can't seem
to produce serotonin
snow that won't come
snowflakes stuck somewhere
up in the sky where my head is
writing poems on wrapping paper
when I didn't get what I wanted
I'm all out of creative juices
where's Santa Claus when
you need him
Snow is cold
snow gets old
the world turned white
is a lovely sight
on Christmas Eve
we need reprieve.
Rushing out the door so you can be the first
to cross that white expanse
hair plastered to forehead, cheeks and nose
and tips of ears prickling with cold,
toes pinched between thick socks and stiff boots
limbs straining under the weight of so many clothes,
fishing snow out of sleeves and cuffs of pants,
but none of it matters because you know
you will be greeted by something sweet and hot and filling
when you go back home.
Solitary walks in parks
offering respite from blaring advertisements,
street sounds muffled by peaks of soft snow,
cocooned in smells of damp wool and burning wood,
breath hanging momentarily in the air in front of you,
like the thoughts that pass before your mind,
steps quickening as the cold bites down even harder,
spurred on by the promise of something sweet and hot and filling
waiting for you at home.
fighting to feel productive
it's so dark
the sun can't feed me
sinking back into the couch
but then the flakes
on the breeze
flurries of pure white
storms of thoughts blowing away...
and now the darkness feels like a hug
the snow glistening - a lullaby
I am held
like a cub in a den on a bed of leaves
everything is all right.
Underneath the Christmas Tree, Up Above the Fire Place
Underneath the Christmas Tree lay ripped up wrapping paper.
Up above the fire place was the empty glass of milk, and the tray with nothing but little crumbs of cookies.
A note from Santa, left during the night, as well as a smaller note from the family Elf-On-A-Shelf.
The adults of the family gathered in the living room, laughing and singing along to Christmas Carols on the Radio.
Outside, in the front yard, the kids, both young and old, played in the snow.
Snowmen used as shields from flying snowballs, giant hills of snow held sleds, waiting for them to slid down.
Shrieks filled the yard, as well as laughter.
That is what Christmas is;
Having fun with family. Singing carols, the snowball fights out in the yard, the laughter filling the house.
That is the best Christmas to ever be.
Spend time with family, and you'll make the best memories.
Sure, the presents will be awesome for a while, but those never stay forever. The memories do.
The perfect Christmas.
Standing under the streetlight
Smothered in thick winter clothes
Scarf tight across my nose
Coat stretched far too tight
Breathe great clouds of steam
Fingers warm inside my muff
Storms make life so tough
Still, t'is a winter dream
Snow falls in goose down clumps
Flakes dance in dim soft light
Dwellings guard heat locked tight
Cars hide in white whale humps
Listening I cock my ear
The snow is piling up
Hunger rumbles, begs to sup
And I hear all I hold dear
Love beckons me hurry
Wind swirls, on the rise
Drifts bid me be wise
The blizzard is not a flurry